


may nothing but death do us part

by sonia (aquatulip)



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:50:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3221264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquatulip/pseuds/sonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>togami's absence from bed causes concern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	may nothing but death do us part

blurred vision,  
the darkness of the room consumes you; the startling red of the alarm clock reads 5:23pm as it blinks into and out of existence. a power surge must have occurred, or perhaps neither of you remembered to set it after the last one. there seems to be a sort of emptiness; the dust motes dance around you and hang in the air and keep you company, but there is a lack of warmth residing in this room, seeking a home. picking up your crimson gaze, you search the king-sized bed for a lounging form, but instead find the soft imprint of a body once there.

           you sigh.  
it is happening once again.

climbing out of bed, your feet search for the warmth of his slippers that you know he’s forgotten in his haste; you slip into them and stretch lazily into a standing position. your whole body protests, tells you to return to bed. the curtains are pulled shut, but you can tell it is still dark outside. you sneak a peek at your cell phone that is within the pocket of your robe, 3:48am it reads.

the bed is inviting your return, but you slip your robe on and tie yourself in warmth.

carefully; you tread carefully as you travel down an endless maze of hallways; at the end of one hallway, you spot a maid who smiles at you with tired eyes and asks if you need any help, tells you that master is sleeping and you are safe to roam, then informs you that young master is right where you expected him to be. you thank her, then command her to go to bed after she’s finished with whatever task she still has to do. her gaze is grateful as you depart from her.

with every step, you cover distance and are closer to your destination; you pass doors that lead to places that you have left unexplored. none of those rooms concern you, but maybe some day they will. for now, you skirt around a corner and push against a door that is cracked open slightly. an empty bed usually causes minds to wander to dangerous places, and you think that yours would too if you didn’t know him so well.

when you push the door open, the scene unveils itself to you. the music that plays is quiet as the dancer stands in arabesque before coming to rest in fourth position, then immediately going into a series of rapid turns -- fouetté en tournant -- he maintains an elegance that is unrivaled as he turns, then almost abruptly comes to rest. his arms lower until he breaks his composure as his aquamarine gaze looks straight through you. “i thought you were asleep,” he says. there is sweat on his brow and his voice comes out breathy as he stands there in the middle of the room: he looks like a storm.

     “i thought _you_ were asleep,” you shoot back, “you should be.”

he’s pushing himself harder than he needs to; the routine has been memorized and now he is just beating movements into his muscles until all he knows is the fluidity of letting the beat possess him. he scoffs, walking across the floor with careful steps until he stoops low to fetch his glasses. he puts them on before tousling his dampened hair. his face doesn’t contort into disgust because this is familiar to him now. when he moves, you notice how he transfers and prefers to hold his weight on his right leg. “i’m not even tired.”

you kick off his slippers and discard your robe as you make your way into the room; making sure to close the door beforehand, you listen to the music as you glide across the floor. you wait for the familiarity to kick in before doing an aerial. the anxiety eats at you when your feet leave the floor, but you stick the landing and catch yourself smiling in the mirror. “you should get to bed though,” you say as you stretch slowly, lifting your leg and stretching it before repeating that gesture with your other leg. everything about you is careful before you tumble to the ground; both of your hands smack against the flooring as you lay there, staring up at the ceiling. the mirrors that line the wall make you cringe.

you always hated dance studios; your every imperfection is always caught by some gaze.

he makes his way over to you, then stands overtop of you, even though he knows how that irks you. immediately you pull yourself up and when you do, you notice that there’s a vacant look in his eyes. perfecting this routine is the only thing on his mind, and he has little time for distractions like yourself, but you wrap your arms around his neck. “byakuya, bedtime,” you tell him gently. “you need rest to perform in optimal condition.”

a hum escapes his lips as he leans down to press a rare kiss to your forehead; it is supposed to chastise you, to put you back into your place and instruct you to go back to bed without him. you hiss and pull away from him as his lips skirt your skin. “ _byakuya, you need sleep,_ ” your voice is low and serious as you tug on him gently. “if you are injured, you definitely need sleep.”

he looks at you, puzzled. you tilt your head in response. “what do you mean?”

“you look like you are avoiding putting strain on your left leg. rest is one of the best medicines.” you fluidly twirl away from him as you go to collect his things that lay scattered near the far wall; he had come in such a hurry that he didn’t care where anything landed. your knees hover the ground as you grab his book and a bottle of water. you expect him to pick back up where he had been in his routine with your back turned, but instead you feel a force pulling you to the ground and you tumble backwards ungracefully with wide eyes. his smug expression is held close to your slightly irritated one.

when the whole scene comes into view, you realize he’s taking off his shoes. “you are right, i’d be a fool to continue to dance while my leg is in the position it is in. i think i pulled a muscle when i was doing a jump.” you sit up until your shoulders touch; the silk of your nightgown rubs against your skin when you move and you realize that it is cold within this room, but he’s a furnace. hesitantly, you touch his naked shoulder and feel the way his muscles pull as he gives his attention to this simple act of shedding his dance gear. your touch lingers for a moment before you press a kiss to his shoulder. “celes?” his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you think it is endearing how both of you are always blown back by these simple shows of affection, as if the other is incapable of such an act.

     “you’ve worked so hard, byakuya, i’m sure your routine will be of the highest quality. there doesn’t need to be any surplus stress.” your eyes slip closed as you both revel in the silence. the music had halted awhile ago, but you don’t recall when. all of a sudden, you feel his lips against yours. everything about him is so soft at such an early hour and you forget yourself as you press against him with a careful fervor.

his kiss burns deep, straight into your veins and an inferno rushes throughout your body as you sit there. all your blood turns to lava and your gasping breaths turn into deadly smoke and ash. you expel ash into his lungs and both of you are addicted to the nicotine that you produce. in a flurry of movements, you have toppled him over as you swing a leg over him. you press him against the floor and kiss him again and again. he burns holes into your skin as his lips take a detour down the expanse of your neck.

                      you gasp, and he swallows it.

“ _bed_ ,” you command as you pull away.

                     his gaze lingers on your messy hair and wild eyes as you stand up and go to fetch your belongings. he drifts right after you with a limp in his step. “celes, i’m surprised that you care so much,” he chuckles, “usually you don’t come after me.”

instead of replying right away, you shake your head as you slip yourself into the robe and wrap it around you tight. “i’m not heartless, plus you’ve been pushing yourself much too hard lately. i can’t bear to watch your downfall in the case that you injure yourself.” he catches up with you and almost reaches out to grasp your hand before he puts himself back into place. neither of you are used to gentleness, so your kisses that burn and sharp touches that cut are what you both prefer. when the curtain is pulled back a shy gentleness may be present, but it is still an unusual entity between the two of you: one that isn’t commented upon ever. it is a silent thing that exists only temporarily.

slipping into the hallways, both of you skirt around corners and through passageways until you end up right where both of you had started. he opens the doors and is greeted by the coldness of an empty bed that appears so much bigger now that neither of you occupy it. he takes your robe and you climb into bed as he heads into the bathroom. you hear the steady stream of water and it is soothing to you. you feel yourself drifting off into a deep slumber just as it ceases. you are falling into infinity as he climbs into bed beside you; he presses a kiss to the corner of you lips and you turn towards him in your drunken slumber.

     “byakuya,” you whisper.  
                  “goodnight, celes,” he responds, chuckling against your lips.

and you  s l i p

                        from a  p i r o u e t t e

                                                            to embrace  i n f i n i t y.


End file.
